That Certain Time
by beatemlaetemcanem
Summary: My Fair Lady, but based more on movie than the play. Higgins is being insensitive, and it's during Eliza's time of the month. He's really doomed, isn't he? Stay tuned for a whole week of Higgins getting what he deserves in Eliza's opinion ! Now edited!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own "My Fair Lady"("We are proud" and funky spelling of when Eliza says "you" in her accent), don't own Higgins (thank gods), don't own _Pygmalion_, and don't own "Jeeves and Wooster" ("We Woosters are made of sterner stuff"- for a minute, I thought I had something original). I don't even think I own my muse (that actually explains a lot).

* * *

Professor Higgins stared moodily at the clock. _Where is that blasted girl?_

Pickering, as if sensing his mood, said, "Come now, Higgins. It's only been five minutes. The poor girl probably slept in a little after last night's breakthrough. We were up until three o'clock in the morning."

Higgins glared at him, then resumed staring at the clock. "She must always be on time for lessons, else we lose valuable time before the ball. Five minutes late is five minutes of lost grammar, for which I may lose--"

Eliza entered, looking a little paler than usual. Pickering took notice immediately.

"Eliza, what's the matter? You don't look yourself."

"Nonsense, Pickering! She's perfectly healthy," Higgins stated with his usual contrariness. Eliza suddenly burst into tears.

"Oh now, we are proud! Don't care nothin' about a poor girl like me, jus' wants to make me win a bet and doesn't care if'n I live or die in the process!" She started wailing even more and rushed out of the room. "I don't care if'n I ever sees ye-oo agin, 'enry 'iggins! Oh, I wish I was dead!"

Higgins and Pickering gawked at the place where Eliza had been before she ran, and then at each other. Pickering was the first to venture an explanation. "Do you think she might be... you know?"

Higgins looked confused. "What? A temporary mental illness in which she forgets all that anyone has ever done for her and acts like a melodramatic, ungrateful hussy? It sounds perfectly like Eliza, except for the melodramatic part."

"No! Didn't your mother teach you anything about females and their... reproductive cycles?" He whispered the last part like it was a dirty word.

"Oh, that! No, actually. She just assumed that no girl would be idiot to ever even stay in my house more than one night, let alone a month. Why?"

"I had three sisters, and they were all nightmares during... you know. I stayed out of the house during the whole week."

"What?! Does Eliza honestly expect me to give up my house, which I earned with my money, to some ignorant flower girl for a week! Hah! We Higgins are made of sterner stuff, let me tell you!" Mrs. Pearce entered, grabbed the chocolate bowl, and headed for the door.

"I say, what the devil are you doing with that?" Higgins asked.

"Well, sir, chocolate is a well known remedy, and Eliza has the worst... case I've seen in twenty years."

"How bad is it?" Pickering asked in amazement.

"She is still crying and complaining about Professor Higgins, which you shouldn't mind, sir. A girl can say the most hateful things during this... time, and never mean them."

"What is that blasted girl saying about me?"

"She says that you're an ungracious cod who should have taken a long walk vertically off a high cliff onto some sharp spikes, and she pities your mother and wonders how she ever survived. Of course, I don't approve of this, but it is excusable because of the circumstances."

"Blast her! I'm going to go and give her a piece of my mind!" With that, Higgins stormed away, leaving Mrs. Pearce and Pickering shaking their heads at him.

Pickering eyed the chocolates. "Bet you three chocolates that she brains him with a book when he first enters the room."

"I don't bet, Colonel," Mrs. Pearce glared. "However, I am sure that Eliza will hit him with her table lamp after he has said five words." There was a sudden THUD! upstairs, followed by some very heavy cursing. Higgins thumped down the stairs. "Pickering, Mrs. Pearce, I'm going out! Keep Eliza confined to her room, and make sure any matches are safely hidden away from her!"

"Oh, Higgins," Pickering called. "Did she hit you right when you entered?"

"No! Five words into my lecture about perseverance and never cursing one's teacher, she threw a lamp at me! The woman has a devil of a throwing arm!"

Mrs. Pearce just smiled a small, triumphant smile and took the chocolates to Eliza's room.

* * *

(Hah! I have the whole thing done in one hour! Yay! I've vanquished the demons of procrastination!)

Please excuse the authoress while she mentally runs around in circles (too tired to physically do so). And review. Even if it's just flames. But, please, seal those in easy-to-mail-to-outer-space-containers so they won't get loose and start more wildfires over here.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue. Comprehendete (For those who don't know Latin, comprehend)?

Author note: This was originally a oneshot. However, ForeverJulie wanted me to write the whole week. My muse started coming up with ideas and clobbering my poor cerebellum with them, so I've been having trouble not falling on my face and remembering to breathe while practicing the violin (which I needed to focus on, since I have a test tomorrow in orchestra and a lesson).

* * *

Higgins was, once again, sitting in his favorite chair, beginning his new "favorite" activity of glaring at the clock. Pickering was reading the newspaper nearby him.

"You know, Higgins, that's not going to speed up time or make Eliza move any faster."

Higgins glared at him (which made the white bandage on his temple really noticeable to Pickering, who started grinning a little), then turned back to the clock. "She had better come down here soon, or I'll be the one throwing the--" The door opened, and Higgins threw the clock at it. Fortunately for Higgins, the clock just hit one of the phonographs (which started playing the "Rain in Spain" song that he had created in the middle of the night when he was a little intoxicated) instead of Mrs. Pearce.

"Professor, what is the meaning of this unwanted assault?"

"So sorry. I was aiming for Eliza, and-- Pickering, would you stop sniggering for a blasted moment!" The colonel took a huge breath, drank some of his tea, and then started coughing. Higgins just sighed and walked over to him and pounded really hard on his back. "Sorry again, Mrs. Pearce. He's been doing this all morning, while muttering something about this blasted bandage."

"You didn't have to pound that hard," said Pickering. "I wasn't dying." Eliza then entered the room, looking even more pale.

"Where was I?" Higgins murmured to himself. "Oh, yes! I remember." He picked up the clock from the floor and threw it at Eliza. Again, it missed. "What the devil is wrong with my aim?!" He managed to yell before Eliza started in.

"Oh, 'e's goin' to kill me, that one is! I tol' ye-oo, Mrs. Pearce, 'e's a mad'un, 'e is! I can't tike this no longer!" She whirled around and ran back to her room, sobbing and screaming all the way.

Mrs. Pearce shot a worried glance at Pickering before rushing after Eliza, bellowing, "Calm yourself, girl!"

Pickering looked at Higgins, who was standing like a frozen statue in the same spot. "You know, I hear that Covent Gardens is full of tourists with interesting dialects."

"Huh... interesting. Yes." Higgins shook himself and woke up. "Yes. Tell Mrs. Pearce that I won't be back until nine o'clock tonight. Also, tell her to lock Eliza in during the day and barricade my door. There's no knowing what that wildcat will do to my books..."

* * *

Okay, people. See the button down there? The one that says "Review?" Press it. Please. I don't really care what you write (as long as it pertains to the story), all I want is more than one review for this thing!!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: If I owned this, I would be rich and probably not sitting here writing. As it is, I'm not rich and I am sitting here writing.

Author's note: Yay! Third day of writing, and already a third chapter (and only two reviewers...). This may be short, but I had seven classes, a violin lesson, and homework to deal with. Plus, my muse is either on strike or vacation. One would think that it would be pulling more of its weight in my head.

* * *

Higgins was, again, sitting in his chair. However, he was staring at his watch instead of the space where the clock used to sit. Pickering had seen Higgins put the clock in the trash yesterday, since "the throw had ripped it asunder," according to Higgins's first eulogy (out of five; he had really liked that clock).

Eliza entered the room, on time for once. She still looked like she might cry at any minute, but that was expected. Higgins looked at her, then his watch.

"Oh, good. You're here on time. Well, since you have missed the last two days, we shall have to go through all your lessons in one day." Eliza looked shocked, and then started crying. Again.

"Ye-oo can't be that crul! I can't do all that! Besides, I only came down to get the choc'lates an' a book. I finished all the ones in my room."

Higgins stared at her for about five point eight seconds. "Of all of the ungrateful, ignorant hussies, you just had to be the one to ask me to teach you and then had the temerity to cry and moan that I'm cruel and you are incapable of a day's labor!" He had to finish there because Eliza, once again, had left the room. He muttered something that sounded remarkably like, "Oh, no, she's not getting away again" (at least, that's what it sounded like to Pickering), before rushing out of the room after her. Pickering heard Higgins continue to rant while running up the stairs (quite an impressive feat), while Eliza continued to cry, moan, and yell something about buying mutant piranhas and crossing them with electric eels and sticking them in some speech teacher's bathtub.

THUD!

Pickering walked into the hallway. He saw Higgins on the floor, limbs spread out in a way that even a gymnast competing for the Olympics would have envied. Higgins saw Pickering, and started with the excuses.

"I was trying to persuade her to do her lessons, but the wretched wildcat threw that vase that Mother bought for me to put on the first landing. I dodged it, but I--"

"Ended up falling flat on your back. Really, Higgins, you should try to avoid these sort of antics. Neither of us are young, you know."

"I know! Could you just help me up so I can go find a panacea?"

"The hospital?"

"No, a blasted pub. I shall get drunk enough to forget all of my worries, especially her. It will probably take me all day. Don't wait up."

* * *

Okay, my computer just gave me three line space things... I'm still figuring this out, so bear with me if it's a little... wonky.

And now for a riddle: What begins with an "R" and ends with "eview" and has no letters in between. Show me your guess by doing it!!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Me? Own it? Like that would ever happen, even in a parallel universe.

Author Note: Well, I've just watched the McCain speech, and I have to say this: he's good. If he were young enough to ensure that he wouldn't suddenly pass away and leave us with the highly conservative Palin, my parents and sister might actually vote for him. And we're all Democrats. Still, that's just my views on the subject. Ergo, don't get offended and stop reading.

On some unrelated notes: I'm now over halfway done with this story! And my muse is coming back! And tomorrow's the last day of school for the week! Life is looking up!

* * *

Higgins woke up the next morning with a bugger of a headache. Well, at least he was in... his... bed... Oh, blast it all, he must have headed to Mother's instinctively! Well, he was too hungover to really think about anything except getting home before rush hour traffic.

He was about to yell for his mother when suddenly she walked in from her garden.

"Well, I see that you are finally awake. You were on the street last night, mangling some sort of nonsense about plains, rain, and Spain." He winced. THAT was why he never got drunk, unless there was some apocalyptic cause.

"Call me a cab, Mother, and I will be home."

"And let you torture that poor girl with your foul temper? I think not. I shall call Colonel Pickering and ask him and Mrs. Pearce to watch you and keep you away from any sharp objects."

"But, Mother--"

"Shut it," she barked as she left the room.

Higgins groaned and leaned back in the wicker chair. And promptly fell backwards.

"Blast these chairs, blast the female race in general, and blast Eliza. I hope she does us all a favor and--"

"Henry, stop cursing!"

"Yes, Mother."

Twenty minutes later, Pickering had come. Higgins had to drag his friend away from an "interesting" discussion about Indian rugs and tapestries. He nearly fell asleep twenty-two times, in spite of his head.

Now they were home. Eliza was still upstairs with the chocolate, Pickering was out to get some fresh air, and Higgins was currently being watched like a two-year-old by Mrs. Pearce. He sulked.

"Honestly, Mrs. Pearce, I'm fine."

"Sir, your mother asked me to look after you, and I am going to do so."

"I pay you to look after the house, not its inhabitants!"

"You paid me to look after Eliza the last few days."

"That's different! She's not a man! Men can take care of themselves, women are fragile. Even if they can throw well enough to be a man..."

"You are inside the house, therefore you are under my control."

Pickering entered and said, "Mrs. Pearce, I will take over. You can check on Eliza and look after the rest of the house." Mrs. Pearce looked a little bit relieved. Higgins supposed that, being a woman, taking care of Eliza seemed easier than taking care of himself.

He sighed and went back to sulking quietly.

* * *

Once again: review, please! I want feedback! I do tend to incorporate any criticism into my writing, or any ideas!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Higgins, Eliza, Pickering, or anyone else. I don't own the Worst-Case Scenario Survival Guides, or cloroform. I don't even own my muse.

Author's Note: It's Friday! Yay!! And I have a third reviewer! I'll work on the grammar once the whole thing is up since they're only little glitches. If it's big, tell me and I'll figure out how to repost. And, Higgins will meet other men at the end, who will have one of two reactions to him being kicked out of his house by a woman. In the meantime, I'll go back to celebrating and sleeping. And my muse is coming back!!

* * *

Higgins was, as everyone probably guessed, in his chair. Pickering was also there, trying to persuade Higgins to take the bucket off the door, or to at least pour the chloroform out.

"Higgins, what if Mrs. Pearce walks in?"

"She won't. I've already sent her a note to not come in here until after Eliza comes in here. That's the brilliance of the plan. Eliza will only know what hit her for the first five seconds, then she'll be out. Plus, the chemist gave me these two gas masks for fifteen pounds each."

"Fifteen pounds?!"

"They were on sale! Besides, it's great for scaring those little kids who egg my door every Halloween."

"I highly doubt that teenagers will be scared by a gas mask."

"We're straying off topic. Eliza will be unconscious and not in pain anymore, and we'll just have to haul her upstairs."

"I still believe that this plan will fail."

"Quiet, here she comes," Higgins whispered. Sure enough, the door opened, and the bucket fell on a woman who promptly collapsed.

"I finally did it, I did it, I did it," Higgins started singing while badly dancing a sort of jig. Pickering walked over to the body and lifted up the bucket.

"Higgins? Did you make sure Mrs. Pearce got the note?"

"Of course I did, I'm not some bubble-headed... Oh. Blast it all." Sure enough, it was Mrs. Pearce who was soaked in chloroform.

"How long will she be out, Higgins?"

"Well, it depends on the ratio of mass to amount, so Eliza would be sleeping for over a day. Mrs. Pearce will sleep for a little under. Anyway, we need to haul her over to behind my desk until we can get two of the maids to get her to her room."

"Two maids, Higgins?"

"Hmm. Yes, we'll probably need four. Well, come on. I'll grab the head, you grab the feet."

After five minutes, they got her hidden behind the desk. Pickering still didn't know why he was helping Higgins to prank Eliza. Oh, now he remembered. It was because Higgins needed to get it out of his system now, instead of letting it fester. Besides, Eliza would understand once she was rational again.

Higgins walked over to the bookcase and pulled a random book down like a lever. One bookcase moved to reveal a closet full of survival gear (including _Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbooks_, Pickering noted wryly) and containers of a colorless... liquid... also known as chloroform.

"How many jars did you get, Higgins?"

"Oh, enough to last the week, and maybe the next one. I use it on myself when I can't stand Eliza's dialect and the headache I get from listening to it." He pulled out two jars and walked over to the bucket. He uncorked one using his teeth and poured it in before doing the same with the other one. Then, he put the phonograph on the floor next to the door, climbed onto the now-vacant end table, and carefully put the bucket on top of the door without spilling the chloroform.

Suddenly, Eliza barged in. The door slammed into Higgins, and the bucket completely missed Eliza. She walked over to where Higgins was supposed to be sitting, obviously going on autopilot because she was trying to figure out how to keep death wishes G-rated. She raised her hand to shake her finger in his face and opened her mouth. She blinked, realizing finally that Higgins wasn't there. Her finger twitched before her hand slowly lowered, and she caught sight of the colonel.

"Where is 'e, colonel?" Higgins could tell that she sounded pretty enraged. He made, for once, a smart choice and didn't say a word.

"I saw him earlier. I suggested that he take a walk, since he was feeling quite energetic."

"Oh. Well, now that's a diff'rent story, it is. Don't want 'im to explode at me again. Even though I was workin' on my lessons. My grammer 'as gott'n better. I'm still workin' on my aitches (the letter "h"), though. Say, when d'ye-oo suppose 'e'll get back?"

"I haven't the faintest, my dear." Higgins was currently praising the Supreme Being for making great liars like Pickering.

"Oh, well, I'll jus' wait right 'ere for 'im, and-- there's a dead body 'ere! It's Mrs. Pearce! Colonel, 'e's murdered Mrs. Pearce!" She sounded near hysterics. Pickering made comforting noises while Eliza wailed and, as usual, rushed from the room.

Higgins got down from the end table. Pickering threw him a despairing glance. "What do you suppose we do?"

"Oh, lock the girl in her room, wait for Mrs. Pearce to wake up, and try to convince her that Mrs. Pearce got heavily chloroformed last night."

"How? By saying that your housekeeper sniffs it and accidentally overdosed?"

"That's an idea... No, say that a... hmm... a burglar, yes, came in, got some of my valuables, and chloroformed Mrs. Pearce."

"So why was she there?"

"It's Mrs. Pearce! The woman knows everything in this house! She could probably tell you how many spiders there are in the room at this very moment!"

"Five," said Mrs. Pearce, who was now sitting upright. Pickering and Higgins goggled at her, much like a pair of goldfishes, for a good thirty seconds. She sighed. "I read the note, I knew that the trick would create irreparable damage between the professor and Eliza, so I came in first and held my breath for the most part."

"So you LET Eliza believe you are dead?"

"The chloroform had soaked into my clothes. It was impossible not to breathe it. Now, I shall go change and then calm Eliza down. And, professor, I shall not hesitate to call your mother next time."

Higgins gulped. He needed a drink. Or five.

* * *

You all should know the drill by now. Review, tell me what you think, send me flames (my house is so air conditioned that I feel it should start snowing any minute.) as long as they can't affect California and start another wildfire.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Me? Own this? Anyone who thinks that way would have to be really, REALLY out of their mind(s).

Author's note: Sorry! Life came in and grabbed me by the throat with a bunch of tests, essays, a family reunion, and mounds of homework. This was the first night that I had time to do any writing. Not to mention that my muse imitated life by grabbing my throat and demanding that I write this. I realize that this isn't as good as a brand new chapter, but it'll have to do for today. And, hopefully, I'll have time to update tomorrow...

* * *

Higgins was, once again, sitting in his chair. However, he wasn't staring at a clock this time. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be asleep. Pickering also felt like sleeping, since Mrs. Pearce had decided to wait until AFTER Eliza's wails had stopped being supersonic. That happened to be at six o'clock. Then, Mrs. Pearce explained everything, and Eliza kept weeping with relief until one o'clock. Pickering loved the girl like a daughter, he really did, but even the most dedicated father wants to strangle his child at some point.

"Ggggnnnnxxxxx-COUGH cough hack cough," went Higgins after a particularly painful (and loud) snore. Pickering sighed. He had half a mind to stuff Higgins into his little "anti-Eliza" closet and to go out to a bar somewhere and get drunk. Or buy a ticket back to India today. However, that would be incredibly rude, and Mrs. Pearce would be the only one to prevent Eliza and Higgins getting arrested for disturbing the peace. If Pickering hadn't been there last night when the policemen came... He shuddered, causing the newspaper to crinkle.

Eliza came in and stopped when she saw Higgins asleep. "Are lesson canc'll'd today, colonel?" She whispered. He nodded.

"Oh. Good. I'll jus' go up to my room an' work on my aitches. 'e needs the rest, don't 'e?"

Again, Pickering nodded. She turned to leave.

"Blasted Cockney lobster in a tutu. Looks worse than Eliza at midnight..." Higgins muttered, still asleep. Eliza turned back slightly, grinning like a homicidal maniac with a grudge to settle and a really sharp knife. Pickering suppressed the urge to shudder. That smile would make a shark turn fin to swim as far away as possible and have several recurring nightmares for years. He ran for the door.

"SO YE-OO THINK I LOOK WORSE THAN A BLOODY LOBSTER IN A BLASTED TUTU?! JUS' YE-OO WAIT 'TIL I'M DONE WITH YE-OO, 'ENRY 'HIGGINS!!"

"Ow- Eliza, what do you think- ow- blast- ow- PUT DOWN THAT- OW- BLASTED- OW- CHAIR!"

Pickering winced. He had made it OUTSIDE the house, and he could STILL hear the various thuds, blasts, threats, and yelps. He sighed and walked down the street toward the pub. He could really use several drinks...

* * *

Once again, review! I don't care if it's flames, so long as they're sealed in a jar and can't escape to help global warming.


	7. Chapter 7 At Last

Disclaimer: I don't own Pygmalion or any of the speech patterns from it, My Fair Lady, Jeeves & Wooster (question- the tender goddess line is used by which character in Jeeves & Wooster?), mummies, pubs, John Adams beer (nor any variant), Monty Python and the Holy Grail (spot the line, if you can), nor anything else used in this. If you can recognize it, I don't own it.

Sorry for the wait! My parents decided to switch cable companies for a month because it was free, and then we all hated it and tried to switch back. Unfortunately, it had a choke hold on our internet access like the Hydra in Hercules (the Disney movie, which has really great music by Alan Menken; I don't own the movie, the music, the Disney company, Walt Disney, nor Alan Menken); we solved one problem and fixed the cable access, but the evil cable company just kept coming back... It was really annoying. Of course, the internet was only down for two weeks. The rest of the time was spent suffering from homework and a massive cold. Again, sorry, but it's not my fault.

Also, my sister has finally moved off to college! Not that I want her gone, it's just that I don't like talking about things for a long time. Patience is not one of my virtues. Insanity, on the other hand...

* * *

Higgins limped into his study, looking remarkably like himself except for the grimace as he sat down.

"Shouldn't you be wearing bandages, Higgins?" Pickering asked.

"Nonsense. I'm just going to wait until Mrs. Pearce arrives, and then I'm going to a pub."

"Mrs. Pearce is not going to like either of your ideas."

"Well, I need a drink! And I can't go out in public looking like a blasted mummy! Besides, after what the wildcat did to me yesterday, Mrs. Pearce's lecture will be a walk in the park." Mrs. Pearce walked in, looking like she was about to say something, but Higgins cut her off. "Yes, I took them off. A man cannot go out in public wearing those unless he wants to answer questions. And yes, I'm going to a pub. A new one, so don't look for me in the usual spots. And yes, I expect to get so drunk that I start singing. Don't try to stop me." He ran out the door. Well, he was actually limping quickly, but it's the thought that counts. Mrs. Pearce stood there, blinking.

"Something the matter, Mrs. Pearce?" Pickering inquired.

"Eliza wanted me to tell the professor that she was extremely sorry. She was crying so much and wanted to tell him herself, but I told her to let me. Her accent has also improved, if not her grammar, and she almost sounds like a duchess."

"She's going to kill Higgins when he gets home, I imagine," the colonel murmured before turning back to his newspaper. "Go find the lad that keeps singing and pacing down the street, and tell him that Eliza wants him to find a man named Professor Higgins. Tell him he's her father's friend though, so he doesn't think there's something going on between the two."

Higgins was in a new pub. It was run by some American, James Adams, or something similar. Anyway, he was drinking and making new friends with some of the drunks in there.

"...So then, she picks up this chair, and starts hitting me with it! I mean, what sort of girl does that?!"

"Only a mental one, j'st like me wife. Except that was wiv a bowlin' ball on me foot."

"And my girlfriend hit me with a lamp when she learned I had another girl!" Announced one man. Everyone turned to look at him.

"What? Isn't this Cheaters' Anonymous?" he asked.

"No, that would be the bar three doors down from the one next door," Higgins said helpfully.

"Oh, thanks." The embarrassed man sidled out. Higgins looked around. "So where were we? Oh, did I tell you why the baggage is even in my house in the first place? She wants-"

"Professor Higgins!" Shouted a blurry figure. Higgins squinted. "Oh, it's you, Freddy. Come on, join us all for a pint!"

"Professor, it's not safe for you here!" Freddy was hauling him off the barstool and out the door.

"Wha-"

"You'll get liver disease! And alcohol is a depressant, so your life is going to look a lot worse in a few drinks! Besides, drinking isn't the answer!"

"But it's the meaning of life!" Higgins suddenly stopped as he was dragged outside into the bright sunlight. Actually, it was really cloudy, but, compared to the bar, it was bright. Freddy took advantage of these five seconds of adjusting to push Higgins into a waiting carriage.

"So, Professor, why did you feel the need to indulge in drink?"

"Huh?" answered the still stunned Professor.

"Why were you drinking? Especially American beer?"

"Oh. It's that blasted Eliza! Apparently, she gets like this once a month, and-"

"Gets like what?"

"You know... You do know about... female... cycles, don't you?"

"Female cycles of what?"

Higgins was NOT going to teach this imbecile about women. Ever. "Not the point. Once a month, Eliza suffers severe mood swings, and becomes really violent."

"Nonsense! My darling Eliza is incapable of any violence. She's a tender goddess, a pacifist nymph, a perfect-"

"A perfect blasted apocalypse if she ever gets her hands on a gun!"

After arguing for another fifteen minutes, they arrived on the street where Higgins lived. Higgins inserted a key into the door, opened it, and gallantly gestured for Freddy to go in first. Freddy did so, and promptly got hit in the nose with a slipper. He and the slipper fell back down the stairs. At the bottom, a brick tumbled out of the slipper.

"SO YOU THINK YOU CAN COME CRAWLING BACK-" Eliza had started. "OH! FREDDY DEAR!" She ran back up stairs, crying that she was incredibly sorry for it all.

Higgins walked back down the steps and helped the dazed young man up. "A tender goddess, is she?" Higgins asked sarcastically. Freddy let out a groan.

"Give her time, Higgins," said Pickering. "And hope that... it... doesn't occur during the ball. Oh, and remember that she's going to be like this again next month."

"Pickering, how do you feel about going out of the country for a week next month? Maybe travel to India, Japan, China, or some other place. We could go to America and make fun of their accents..."

* * *

Okay, so this is the end. Seriously. Except for this little paragraph. Recently, my muse came up with a certain question: what if the whole story was in real time? That would mean that Eliza would still be suffering the week or so I was working on homework. Which would mean that Mrs. Pearce would have called a doctor, kept Higgins from harassing said doctor, who would not be able to prescribe any curing since he just got out of medical school and happens to be Freddy's long-lost twin brother. Then, Eliza dies from blood loss some time in his fifth aria about how beautiful she is and how much he loves her. The doctor starts singing about killing himself and does so right before Freddie enters. Then, Freddie sings and kills himself. Then, Higgins enters, grumbles something about them getting blood all over the furniture. A month later, those three are buried. Eliza is in an elaborate crypt, while the twins are buried in the same small hole. And all this is done at Higgins' expense.

* * *

I just noticed something. I'm obsessed with the number five! Five seconds, five arias, five words before Eliza brains Higgins with the lamp... This is incredibly weird, even for me. And I have over one thousand words in this chapter! Figures it'd be the last one.

Anyway, review! Even if it's been years after it's been out! Feedback is very much welcome, and appreciated. Any flames should be sealed up so that the trees don't burn. Like they did this summer. Maybe fireproof trees would help...


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